Mark Patinkin: Digging into the secret sauce at New York System

I drove into Olneyville Square on the first stop of a mission to solve one of the state’s great questions.

No, not how to address unemployment, high taxes or underfunded pensions.

Bigger:

Which wiener joint is the real “original” New York System?

That’s the name of an iconic Rhode Island brand.

Of wieners.

Or rather, the meat sauce spread on top of them. That’s what makes New York System iconic. Not just the dogs — the sauce.

Which brings up one other mission I was on. The New York System recipe, like the formula for Coke, is a fiercely guarded secret. Perhaps, I told myself, I could crack it.

I began at “Olneyville New York System” on 20 Plainfield St. The first thing I learned is there’s not a lot of turnover here.

I was greeted by “Sal” — Salvatore O’Brien, who’s been counterman for 33 years. He pointed to Dennis Dias, cooking wieners by the window. He’s been “corner guy” for 15 years.

Nick Barros is the big burly grill guy. He said he was the new kid — he’s only worked there 13 years.

Jimmy Saccoccio, manager, was doing the books at a booth, which is why the others sometimes call him “Jimmy Numbers.” He’s 59 and began working here 45 years ago.

I decided to cut to the chase.

What, I asked, was the secret formula?

They smiled, shrugged and said even they don’t know it. Only the owners do.

There are two big names in the world of local wieners, at least the New York System bran. There’s the Pappas family of Smith Street, and the Stevens family here in Olneyville.

The staff told me Greg Stevens, 53, the main overseer of this location, would be in soon.

I pointed to a rack of dry-mix spice packets for sale with the ingredients on the label. That didn’t seem very clandestine.

Barros — the big grill guy — explained that ingredients are on Coke cans too, but the secret is how much of each you use.

I asked why employees stay so long.

“It’s a family thing,” said Barros. “Once you start working here, you end up falling in love with the place.”

So do most customers he added, and then explained why.

“If you walk in, we already know what you’re going to have. Unless you switch on us. Though we get mad if you switch.”

Barros said he wanted me to refer to him not just as the grill guy, but, “AKA, the black guy.” He laughed, but added there was a serious point. New York System is a place where you see every background and age; and at almost every hour — it’s open 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. weekdays, and until 3 a.m. weekends.

I asked how many wieners they sell a day.

“More than 100 and less than a million,” said Barros. He said that’s one more secret you can’t have the competition knowing. The wiener game, he explained, is competitive.

He also said they serve a big diner-like menu, but the most common order is the classic: two New York System wieners, coffee milk and an order of fries covered in salt, vinegar and ketchup.

They told me any customer would likely confirm that New York System is a legend, so I picked a man sitting alone at a booth.

His name was David Perreault, 67, and said he’s been eating here since age 4. He did some quick math and figured he’d eaten about 20,000 New York System wieners in his life. He used to dine here daily and he’s still a regular.

“Me and my girl come at least two times a week,” he said.

He’s now semi-retired, working part-time as a gun instructor at the Hope Rifle and Pistol Club on Manton Avenue. The staff told me his usual order was two wieners all the way and coffee milk. Perreault nodded. He was having it now. He said he’s been to almost every place that serves New York System, but likes this one the best.

“Because of the people who work here,” he said. “They’re a riot.”

He also finds the Olneyville-location wieners slightly milder. On the other hand, he still recommends coffee milk to smooth out the hit.

I asked Perreault how many stars he’d give the place.

“Ten.”

I told him restaurant reviewers are only allowed five.

“I’d still give it 10.”

I looked at his gun instructor cap and decided not to argue.

Saccoccio, the manager, said they have plenty of longtime customers, and sat me next to Rita Downing.

She’s 75 and has been coming here since age 8.

“Somebody’s got to keep bothering them,” she explained.

Tony Neary, 81, has also been a New York System fan since childhood. He’s a retired letter carrier who lives in Johnston. I asked his address.

“Can’t give it to you,” he joked. “Too many guys are looking for me.”

Does he eat here often? He nodded at the wieners rotating on the corner grill.

“Whenever those puppy dogs call me,” he said.

I asked grill man Barros which “System” location is the real original.

“We’re the best,” he said. “But Smith Street did open before us. You gotta give ’em that.”

That seemed to give me the answer, but just then, owner Greg Stevens, 52, walked in, and the story got complicated.

He said the Smith Street New York System was indeed founded in 1927, while Olneyville opened in 1946, but it turns out both descend from the same Greek family.

Gus Pappas, 63, owns Smith Street. His grandfather Augustus Pappas was there at the start.

Greg Stevens and family own Olneyville, but his great-grandfather was related to Smith Street-founder Augustus, and involved with the family decision to open a wiener place in Rhode Island.

The Olneyville Stevens ancestry, by the way, is just as Greek as Pappas. The name was originally Stavrianakos and Americanized coming through Ellis Island.

And the Stevenses were more than just part of the founding clan. When Augustus Pappas died suddenly in the early 1930s, his widow called her brother Nicholas Stevens — Greg Stevens’ great-grandfather — to help, and he did, moving to Providence from Brooklyn to keep the Smith Street place running.

He eventually branched off in 1946 to open Olneyville, bringing the recipe secrets with him, and adding a few tweaks.

I asked Stevens the different between the two wieners.

For one, he said, Olneyville keeps on the casing while Smith Street serves them skinless.

After that, he said, they both use mustard, celery salt and chopped onion.

And then the big secret: the special meat sauce. The two places, he said, are slightly different.

Aside from himself, Stevens said, only three people know the Olneyville recipe — his co-owner sister, Stephanie Turini, and her husband, John, who runs Olneyville’s North Providence location.

They have a third place in Cranston. So it’s a small empire. But Greg Stevens hardly acts like a CEO. He’s been working the late shift for 25 years, often until 3 a.m. on weekends. Sometimes he’s the corner man, sometimes the dishwasher. He said he’s constantly cleaning all surfaces, adding, “Fingerprints drive me crazy.”

One thing he loves about his work is serving every background.

“It’s amazing what comes through this door,” he said. “Bentleys, homeless and everyone in between. Advertising people ask who’s our demographic. We don’t have a demographic.”

He said the Providence police chief once came in at midnight and said how unusual it was to see almost every age and race eating the same thing at the same place.

I drove to the Smith Street place, which has four letters built into the tile floor: ONYS, standing for Original New York System.

Here, too, I started with a customer, Bob Stockley, 64. He said he’s been eating there since age 7. He’s now a vegetarian, except for New York System wieners. Every month or so, he falls off the wagon and comes here for two “all the way” — and coffee milk. That’s all he’s ever gotten here.

He calls it the ultimate comfort food, both for taste and nostalgia. Eating here, he said, brings back being the kid he once was growing up around the corner.

“It’s kinda the feeling of hot chocolate in winter,” he said.

He added one more reason people come here: New York System wieners are one dish you can’t make better at home.

Owner Gus Pappas came in and didn’t disagree, but said they do sell dry mix, and one of his proudest moments was when a contingent of Rhode Island soldiers in Iraq wrote asking for New York System. Pappas took out their letter and began reading:

“I’m staff Sergeant Robert Taylor of the 115th military police company, RI National Guard. We are currently doing duty in Iraq. There are about 120 Rhode Islanders who became hungry for a taste of home … It is our fondest wish that you can find it in your heart to send some wieners to some soldiers to keep our morale up in this difficult time.”

Pappas sent enough dry mix for 1,000 wieners and got a photo back of 16 soldiers eating them under the heading, “The Dogs of War.”

At 64, Pappas is owner, heir and keeper of the legacy along with his dad, Ernie, 91, and mom, 92.

He showed me an old photograph of the time Greg Stevens talked about: A picture from the 1930s of the staff here at Smith Street, including his dad, Ernie Pappas, as a young man, and his uncle, Nicholas Stevens — who had come up from New York to run the place, and would soon branch out to Olneyville.

When Gus Pappas was younger, he planned to be a musician and studied at Berklee College of Music in Boston. He even toured for a while playing guitar and keyboard backing up The Five Satins, known for their hit “In the Still of the Night.” Pappas continues to make music you can find online at guspappasmusic.com.

But he saw New York System as a legacy he was meant to carry on, and he’s been doing it since 1970.

I asked about the meat sauce recipe. They call it chili-sauce on Smith Street. He said that only he, his father and a few other family members know the secret. And he’s not telling anyone.

Could he at least tell me how the secret started?

Pappas said his grandfather got the recipe from his cousin Nicholas Pappas, who started “Nick’s Original Coney Island Hot Dogs,” which has been serving in Fall River since 1920. But those are hot dogs, and New York System serves wieners, and the recipes are slightly different, and …

… and I guess that’s the best I can do in sorting out who’s the real original.

As for the secret sauce, I’d pushed hard on the Olneyville counter guys. Couldn’t the owners whisper it to me or something? Their response: “Yes, but then they’d have to kill you.”

I told Gus Pappas I’d long wondered about something else: Why is New York System bigger here than in New York?

“My father’s brother tried it in New York, but it didn’t go over,” he said. “It’s just kind of a Rhode Island thing.”

He’s not sure why. But he says they chose the name “New York System” to reflect the Coney Island hot dog roots.

The real question is what happens next to the Original New York System outlets. Pappas and his wife, Joanne, a retired teacher, don’t have children, so Smith Street has no heirs waiting to take over.

In Olneyville, Greg Stevens has no children, either.

But his sister does — John Turini, 17, a Moses Brown student who was washing dishes the day I visited. He’s the fifth generation. He said he’s certainly open to carrying on.

If he does, his uncle Greg Stevens told me his nephew’s mission will be the opposite of what most businesses strive for.

“A lot of restaurants are about evolving, changing with trends,” he said. “The biggest challenge of this place is not to change. We’re about keeping tradition.”

Sometimes, he said, people will come in saying it’s their first time back in 20 years. If they order wieners, Stevens will ask if they taste the same.

“If they say yes,” he told me, “that’s the greatest compliment.”

It means he’s doing his most important job: Carrying on a Rhode Island legacy.